The Omega Sontaran
by Exterminatedaffodils123
Summary: As a Christmas present, the Doctor takes Strax to find out what really happened to the mythical Forty-Seventh Sontaran Battle Legion.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One:

The console glistened and shimmered as the Doctor's hands worked fervently around it. 'Just one trip!' he called from his position, kneeling on one of the more vacant panels. 'One, that's all!' He clambered down onto the dais with the grace of an impala, and the elegance of a pile of bricks. 'Vastra had Christmas with the family in the Eocene era, Jenny had a set of handkerchiefs, and you get a trip.'

The Doctor stepped back, examining his work. The tinsel was mostly removed from the TARDIS interior now, aside from one or two errant strands. He turned to face the corridor. 'Strax! Are you listening!'

Perfectly on cue, Strax waddled into the console room, his butler's uniform as immaculate and pristine as ever, a cloth in his hand. 'Of course I am!' He hesitated. 'What were you saying?'

With a huff, the Doctor repeated himself. 'Now,' he continued at last, 'the rules. No crossing your own timeline, no battles or wars, and no popping back to Sontar.' Before Strax could interject, the Doctor cut him off: 'And you know why! We almost started a civil war just because you took back a birthday present.' He fiddled with a dial on the console, muttering, 'And civil war with a clone race, talk about self-hatred!'

'So where _can_ we go, then?' asked Strax, folding his arms behind his back.

'Anywhere! The First High Court of Peladon! The siege of Alexandria! Queen at Liveaid, 1985. The world is your oyster. Well, not _world_ , but… well, you know.'

Strax stood up a little proudly. 'The Ouroboros Cluster.'

'The Ouroboros Cluster?' The Doctor's eyes darted from side to side as he thought. 'Isn't that a cereal?'

Walking to the console, Strax started to input co-ordinates. 'The Ouroboros Cluster, just beyond the Eye of Tranquillity.' He tilted the monitor to show the Doctor.

'Oh, _that_ Ouroboros Cluster,' said the Doctor. 'Bit dull, don't you think? Just a couple of burnt out planets, probably from solar radiation. What about the Boxer Rebellion? Lots of fire – you like fire, don't you?'

Strax sighed. 'What do you know of Sontaran Mythology, Doctor?'

'More gods of war than most species have dynasties?'

'Sontaran history is a little more sophisticated than you might think, Doctor. We have our own legends and tales. Like that Earth woman who disappeared.'

'What woman?'

'Mary Celeste.'

'Mary – Strax, the _Marie_ Celeste was a ship!'

'The ship that disappeared, then.'

'And she didn't dis – it didn't – oh, shut up.' The Doctor rubbed his face. 'Alright, what's the Ouroboros Cluster got to do with Sontaran mythology?'

'It is where the famed Forty-Seventh Legion Fragments were unearthed.'

'Strax, am I likely to get a straight answer at any point this lifetime?' The Sontaran bristled. 'Alright, alright, I'm sorry. Go on.'

'Fragments of Sontaran weaponry were discovered in the Ouroboros Cluster, some fifty parsecs beyond even the remotest Sontaran outpost. There is no record of even a single Sontaran going to that region of space, let alone enough to leave behind that much debris.'

'I get you.'

'No Sontaran has ever discovered what really happened to the fabled Forty-Seventh Legion.'

'And that's what you want for Christmas? Well, if it's what you want…' The Doctor slammed down a lever. Bursting into life, the TARDIS heaved and roared, groaned and shrieked. 'I have to warn you, though!' He shouted over the din. 'Probably won't lead to anything!'

'See?' The Doctor poked his head out of the doors to the TARDIS. 'Nothing.'

All around the TARDIS, the sky of mottled black and purple raged over an ashen grey landscape. It rose and fell like waves, the surface pitted with craters. The blue of the TARDIS was the only speck of colour in the entire landscape, like a star in the night sky.

Opening the doors fully, the Doctor stepped outside, Strax following behind him. 'Atmosphere should be alright. The TARDIS projected a oxygen bubble for a few miles radius, more than enough for a wander.' He held his hands out, and clasped them to his side once more. '"Night's candles are burnt out, and _jocund day_ s _tands tiptoe_ on the misty mountain tops –" Strax, will you stop polishing the TARDIS?'

Strax looked up from his chamois. 'Sorry,' he said, pocketing it. 'Force of habit.'

'What was your war name?' The Doctor started to walk away from the TARDIS. 'You know, Hask the Invincible, Stide the Unstoppable, Thast the Rather-Naughty-And-Enjoys-Killing-Puppies, so forth. What was yours? Strax the Dustmaster?'

'Strax the Powerful, actually. Don't the Time Lords have any names for you?'

'Oh, they've got more than a few names for me, and none I'd care to repeat. We prefer to have qualifications – "Winner of the Order of Rassilon, Prydonian Chapter," all that malarkey.'

'A name should strike _fear_ into the enemy's heart!' barked Strax enthusiastically. 'Not confuse them!'

'No reason you can't do both. At least, that's what I try.'

'Why are you doing this, Doctor?' asked Strax, stopping by a small mound.

'Because you wanted to come here.'

'The presents. Twenty years you spent on that cloud, and not so much as a postcard.'

'Well, that's because…' The Doctor shuffled uncomfortably from foot to foot. 'You see…'

'It was that governess, wasn't it? The one who enjoyed connecting mouths with you.'

'Clara. Her name is Clara.' Strax tilted his head. 'Was. _Was_ Clara, meant to use… past tense, obviously…' The Doctor clapped his hands together. 'So! Ouroboros Cluster, bit of a deadend, wasn't it?'

'Doctor, you are clearly standing in the aftermath of a battlezone.' Strax stooped down and gathered a pile of the dirt in his hand. 'Look how charred it is.'

'Solar radiation.'

'Or Sontaran pulse rifles!'

' _Or_ solar radiation! Now, if we're quick, we can still make it back to Genghis Khan's place for the third round of charades.'

'Doctor!'

'Strax, I'm sorry, but there's nothing here. That was probably just a stray bit of flotsam and jetsam in the vortex, or something.'

'So there's nothing on this planet, is there?'

'Nothing apart from you, me, and a lot of dirt.'

'And that.'

Strax pointed over the Doctor's shoulder. There, perhaps three, maybe four miles away, was a Sontaran battleship, bulbous and bloated, a giant metallic insect.

'Oh,' said the Doctor. 'And that.'

Strax grinned. 'That's a Sontaran ship, isn't it?'

'Shut up.'

'Which means Sontarans.'

'Shut up.'

'Which means – '

'Alright, alright. We'll check it out.' Sticking his hands into his pockets, the Doctor set off towards the ship. 'But only if you agree to stop talking.'

The two figures slowly worked their way towards the ship.

'It's been deactivated for years, if it was ever working at all,' the Doctor explained as they walked, 'hence why the TARDIS didn't pick it up.' He huffed. 'How long ago were the fragments found?'

'At the time I left, fifty years.'

'Fifty years. And not once did you think to send someone over to investigate?'

'Sontarans don't do archaeology.'

'What, don't like dwelling on the past?'

'No, we just keep breaking things by accident.' Strax demonstrated his hand, the bulkiness of each of the three fingers.

'Oh, that makes sense.'

'And besides, the Grand Controller didn't want to spend any extraneous troops on digging up a wasteland when there was a war to be fought.'

'I've heard that before.' The Doctor glanced up. There was still a mile or so to go before they could reach the ship. 'Are you happy, Strax? With Jenny and Vastra, I mean.'

'Why not?'

'Well, Victorian London. You must get some funny looks.'

'And why would that be?'

The Doctor indicated vaguely around Strax. 'You're not exactly winning any beauty competitions, are you?'

Strax sniffed. 'Neither is Jenny. Especially not with that _absurd_ number of fingers!' He looked up at the Doctor. 'Why do you ask?'

'Only… I just wanted to check. Being the only member of your race, stuck in a primitive age of a strange world, it can't be fun.'

'I don't know about "primitive." They've some very elegant ales in their time. And their wars! I have just finished the recount of the attempted Martian invasion, by the war historian HG Wells!'

'What? Oh, you mean War of the…' The Doctor shook his head, laughing. 'Wait until you see the radio play. Or the musical, for that matter.'

'Quite extraordinary, the way the people of that planet appear to forget their greatest conquests! It would that nobody had even _heard_ of the battle, let alone recalled it!'

'That's humans for you. Haven't you been thinking about your future? What you might like to do when you're… actually, how long do Sontarans live for? I've never seen one die of natural causes, come to think of it.'

'The oldest known Sontaran was Hark the Eternal. He lived to fifteen.'

'Fifteen?' The Doctor let out a low whistle. 'Wow…'

'He was held as a prisoner of war by the Rutans for thirteen years. He attempted suicide on a daily basis to escape his captors.'

Suddenly, a flash of light shot past Strax. It slashed open his cheek; he raised a hand to it, and drew it back with a blot of sickly green blood.

'Are we under attack?' he asked the Doctor, wiping the blood on handkerchief.

'Not sure…' Another blast shot between them, missing them both clean. 'There!' cried the Doctor, pointing to a hill. 'Came from over there!'

A third, fourth and fifth flash came towards them, streaks of bright crimson light. One passed clear over their heads; one sliced across the Doctor's sleeve, gashing it open; one passed through Strax's leg. He cried out in paid, and ducked quickly out of instinct.

Patting his sleeve to extinguish the smoke, the Doctor dropped down to examine Strax's leg. 'Doesn't seem too serious…' he muttered, more of the flashes rushing past over his head. 'But we need to get under cover. _Now_.'

'The ship!'

The Doctor weighed up his options. Looking at the oncoming volley of attacks, he made up his mind. 'The ship it is. Come on.'

He set off across the wasteland, charging towards the ungainly metal bulk. Strax followed as fast as he could, limping slightly on his damaged leg. All around them, the shots pelted the ground like rain, the odd one nicking them. One headed straight for the Doctor, set right at his chest…

 **A/N: I'll try to upload a chapter of this every day, around at around 2100GMT. Please leave a review, and follow if you liked it!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two:

'Strax!' The Doctor spun around on his heels, the shot missing him by mere centimetres. His companion was seriously lagging behind him, the flares seeming to creep closer and closer towards him. Groaning, the Doctor doubled back, closing the distance between them.

'Come on!' he urged, pushing Strax forward a little. 'Shake a leg!'

'Sontarans are not made for running!' Strax hissed, lumbering along the dirt. 'We are made for fighting!'

'Well, when you can punch out a beam of light, let me know!' The Doctor looked up. The ship was still a fair distance away, and they weren't getting anywhere quickly. 'We're not going to make it,' he said with a heavy sigh.

'Nonsense! Only one of us incapacitated.'

'Alright, you're not going to make it, I was just being nice.'

'Doctor, you must leave me if you're to have any chance of survival.'

'Strax, shut up.'

'But if you leave now – '

'I said shut up! I'm not leaving you.'

Suddenly, they were both blinded by a bright burst light. Grimacing and covering his eyes, the Doctor squatted down.

The light died away. Slowly, the Doctor opened his eyes again. A wall stood around them, shimmering and wavering like the surface of a bubble. As each flare blasted against it, the light dissipated, causing a ripple to appear for a brief second.

'It appears to be a sort of forcefield…' said Strax, examining the spectacle. He reached out a hand, and watched the wall ripple as he touched it.

Already, the Doctor had his sonic out. He ran it around the base of the wall, in the circle it etched into the ground, and them aimed the device upwards. 'It's coming from the ship,' he said at last, facing towards it. 'Look.' Under the light of the sonic, the wall of the forcefield glowed bright green; the tube stretched back to the ship, ending at a small port in the side of it. 'Probably a tractor beam of some sort.'

'Which means someone is in there!' said Strax triumphantly.

'Could be autopilot, looking for Sontaran lifeforms in the area.' The Doctor folded his arms. 'Doesn't mean a thing.'

'Greetings!' boomed a voice down the forcefield. It was the pugnacious, snarling tones of a Sontaran. 'What is your name and rank?'

'Erm… The Doctor, and Strax.'

The voice waited a second. 'You are not a Sontaran, _Doctor_.'

'Nope, you've got me there. He is, though.'

'Very well. I shall bring you aboard now.' With a crackle, the voice shut off.

'He's going to transport us over,' announced the Doctor. No sooner had he said that did the forcefield begin to shrink around them. When it was practically skintight, it sucked them along, like a straw. Strax yelped in fear, but the Doctor whooped with childish joy, the landscape rushing past around them.

They reached the ship in a matter of seconds. Thankfully, the forcefield slowed before reaching the bulkhead, saving them from being crushed into jam. A section of the ship was flattened just in front of the door, allowing people to walk on it, presumably.

'How's _that_ for a Christmas present?' asked the Doctor, grinning from ear to ear. Strax didn't answer. He was too busy at the other side of the platform, swaying and trying to hold back the motion sickness.

'Sontarans…' he said, through gulps of breath, 'aren't meant for flying, either, it would seem.'

Rummaging around in his pocket, the Doctor found a small pill, green and flecked with yellow. 'Try this,' he said, handing it to Strax. 'Should keep the worst of it away.'

Strax took the pill, thanked him, and swallowed. It seemed to do the trick; he stood up straight.

'You are no warrior,' sneered a voice beside them. The Doctor and Strax turned, to see a figure stood before them. It was the same face as Strax, but knotted scars and burns twisted the face almost unrecognisably. One of the fingers on his right hand was little more than a stump, and the left eye was burnt. 'A true warrior would not cower and whimper at such an event.'

'This is Strax,' said the Doctor, cutting him off, 'and I'm the Doctor.' He offered a hand. The figure looked at it for a second, then ignored it.

'Field Marshal Tork, of the Forty-Seventh Sontaran Battle Legion.'

A smug smile started to grow on Strax's face. 'Yeah, yeah, fine,' muttered the Doctor, 'you were right.'

Tork looked between the two, confused. The Doctor explained:

'We had a sort of bet going. He was saying there _was_ a Forty-Seventh Sontaran Legion, I said there _wasn't_ , whole big thing.'

'Then you were very unwise to do so. What is your rank, Sontaran?'

'Butler.'

' _Butler_? In what force?'

'Paternoster Investigations, London.'

'A Sontaran butler. The idea…'

'And I'm the Doctor. I know what you're probably thinking, but – '

'Yes.' Tork cut him off. 'You said.' He turned his attention back to Strax. 'What was your crime, for such a punishment?'

'Sorry, just making sure, _the_ Doctor we're talking about here. "Oncoming Storm", "Time's Champion", "Vessel of the Final Darkness", "Ka Faraq Gatri." _Any_ of these ringing any bells?'

'No.'

'My clone batch was defeated in battle,' Strax explained, 'and I was made to suffer to make amends.'

'Ah. I see. And your punishment was to serve others as a…' Tork wrinkled his nose. ' _Butler_.'

'I was a nurse. Then I died, and became a butler.'

The Doctor interjected: 'It's a long story, and we're being such bad guests, aren't we, Strax? Going on and on about ourselves… tell us about you, Field Marshall.'

Tork went to speak, when a siren rang. 'We must hurry,' he said, walking away down the corridor. 'Come!' his voice echoed from the walls, 'I shall explain as we go!'

'We have been fighting a battle with the creatures you encountered outside. We only know them simply as the Light. Little else is known about them.'

'Why are you fighting?'

'It is what we have always been doing, as long as we can recall.'

'How did you get here?'

'We don't know. As far back as our records will go – around ten thousand years – this ship has always been here, and has always been the base of operations.'

The Doctor brushed a hand over one of the panels. It was patched up with dozens of different metals and materials, like a patchwork coat. 'You've been doing some DIY work.'

'Repairs using local resources became necessary over time.' Tork's face darkened. 'The forces of the Light made sure of that.'

'So when they attack you,' asked the Doctor brightly, 'is that the Charging of the Light Brigade?' He waited for a reaction from either Sontaran. Neither said a word. Clearing his throat, the Doctor went on. 'Now here's the weird thing, you haven't heard of me.'

'You seem a rather egotistical being.'

'No, no, not that. Well, okay, maybe a bit that, but still, this would be… what, around the year 3000? So that's got to be a good couple Sontaran plans thwarted by me. Got to have heard of at least one. The Invasion of Gallifrey? _Tiger Moth_ incident? Oh! Garundel!'

'You speak nonsense. There is only one Sontaran plan – to defeat the Light!' Proudly, Tork marched down the corridor.

'Doctor.' Strax urged his friend towards him. 'There seems to be a problem.'

'Yes, I've noticed it too,' agreed the Doctor. 'A Sontaran who doesn't know their own military history, that's like… like… see, it's so bizarre, there isn't even a simile to show just how bizarre it is.'

'But what does it mean?'

'If a Sontaran ship crash-landed here, they'd set up a distress beacon, wouldn't they? Get the reinforcements, especially if someone was attacking you. But they've been here for centuries, and they don't even seem to realise there's Sontarans outside of this planet.'

'So why come here?' asked Strax. 'And more importantly, why stay?'

'Yes. It doesn't make any sense.' The Doctor clucked his tongue. 'We'll be stuck here for a while anyway, those things outside will stop us reaching the TARDIS.'

'I have a theory, Doctor.'

'Oh? Go on.'

'Someone brought the Sontarans here for a reason.'

'What?'

'This Light, it is a formidable enemy. And the Sontarans are some of the finest fighters in the universe.'

'But there's Judoon and Ogrons who are much easier to control – you can just buy them off. Sontarans won't do anything unless it directly helps their war effort.'

'Which might explain why they avoided contact with the homeworld.'

'Yes, that's true. Either way, we're not going to get any answers by standing around like this.'

A sharp shriek of pain sounded down the corridor. The Doctor and Strax turned towards it, eyes wide. 'Tork?' called the Doctor. 'Tork!' The two of them ran down, following the sound of the cry.

They burst in a room the size of a warehouse. Half a dozen machines easily twenty feet tall each towered over them, struts and catwalks linking between them. Tork stood at one machine, massaging his hand.

'It's going into overload,' the Doctor said, checking the machine quickly. 'Where are all the engineers?'

'If the engine fails, the forcefields will shut down. The Light will get in!'

'Yep, yep, got it, loud and clear…' the Doctor said under his breath, heading for a ladder. He flew up it, clambering onto the strut.

'Doctor, that's the Neutrol tank!' shouted Tork. 'The liquid in there is over ten thousand degrees!'

The Doctor held onto a cable dangling from the ceiling. He bit through the rubber, reaching the wire. 'Just need to… reconnect the drives…'

Strax looked up as the tank started to rupture. Streams of bright blue liquid flowed out; a second later, it exploded, a dam bursting apart.

 **A/N: Please r+r, and see at same time tomorrow for part three!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three:

Strax watched in horror as the Doctor flew away from the platform, hands wrapped tight around the cable. As the Time Lord swung left to right, his feet scrambled for purchase, kicking at thin air.

'Doctor!' Strax shouted, cupping his hands. 'You're dangerously close to the Neutrol!'

'Yep, thanks!' the Doctor replied. 'I'd noticed!'

The liquid flowed across the floor of the engine room, scalding it and causing streams of putrid smoke to fill the air.

The Doctor stole a glance downwards. He was nowhere near terra firma, dangling a good ten feet in the air. Even dropping down was out of the question – the puddle of Neutrol was simply too big.

'Give me a sec!' The Doctor started to scramble up the cable, his hands scurrying upwards and feet dangling beneath. Strax and Tork gaped at the Time Lord; one hand shot out, grabbing a pipe just above him. A foot was nestled into an alcove, and the Doctor held himself, suspended at the top of the room, like a misshapen purple bat. He looked around – the roof in any other direction was simply sheer metal plates, and a drop of that level would incapacitate, even kill him, due to the fuel beneath.

'Doctor!' cried Strax.

Already the Doctor's mind was at work. Like thunder and lightning, one half of his mind was still comprehending the problem whilst the other was perfecting the solution. His hands dragged the loose cable up so that he was holding the end. His gaze darted at the scene around him for a fleeting moment, then, deciding on his best option, leapt into action.

Swinging on the pipe with one hand, and holding the cable in the other, he flew to the side. The cable tugged until taut, then dragging him around, arcing mere inches over the Neutrol. His coat tails flapped and fluttered with the breeze. Finally, approaching the peak, he released the cable, soaring through the air, and landing unceremoniously on the floor in a heap.

Strax was onto him in an instant, medical scanner waving and beeping over the Doctor's form. 'You've sustained no major injuries,' he announced, pocketing the scanner, 'although there is a tooth with a fairly worrying cavity I should like to examine.'

'Alright, alright,' replied the Doctor, rising to his feet. 'No more Christmas pudding, I've got it.' He brushed away the charred and singed bits of fabric. 'You know, as soon as we get out of here, I'm taking you to a tailor.'

A few minutes later, the worst of the Neutrol had been dealt with. Tork sat on a crate, applying a regenerative gauze to a burn on his good hand; the missing finger made it somewhat clumsy work.

'Give it here,' said the Doctor, taking it from him. He started to break off a length of the gauze, but Tork snatched it back.

'A Sontaran does not require help,' he told the Doctor. 'And particularly not help from an enemy.'

'Does an enemy try to help you?'

Tork narrowed his eyes. 'The only ally a Sontaran can have is himself. 'And if you are not an ally, then you must by nature be an enemy.' He tore the gauze and wrapped it around the burnt area.

From the next room, Strax limped towards them slowly. 'How's the leg?' the Doctor asked.

'Sore.'

'Well, that's the problem with Sontarans, you see. Stocky and short – all that muscle gets compressed into a small space. Means less chance of a flesh wound. Then again, you're a clone, so the biological data isn't too complex. Should heal quite nicely, so long as you lay off the five-dimensional football for a while.'

'You should have faced your death with glory,' spat Tork. 'Not limped away like a child from a beating.'

'"He who fights and runs away,' quoted the Doctor, 'lives to fight another day." Dying's easy, it's fighting that's the real challenge.'

'And what would you know of fighting, Doctor? You ran from the Light, and you'd run from me, if I so much as looked at you menacingly. You've no heart or courage!'

The Doctor sat silently. 'If you say so,' he replied quietly, getting to work with a computer beside him.

Strax turned to Tork, incensed. 'If you speak so lightly of so great a man,' he insisted, 'then you are a fool.' He jabbed a stubby finger in the Doctor's direction: 'This man has fought and defeated greater foes than you could imagine!'

'You would speak to a commanding officer in this manner?' sneered Tork.

'I would speak to anyone in this manner, no matter their rank.'

Tork cast a look to the Doctor. 'Your pet does you credit.'

'Not my pet,' answered the Doctor, 'my friend.'

'Any Sontaran who considers himself beneath a human can only be a pet. Otherwise, they are not a Sontaran.'

Before Strax could respond, the Doctor spoke up: 'Okay, this should do it.' He held up a net of wires and bits of metal, hooked together into a skein.

'And precisely _what_ is that?' asked Tork in astonishment.

'It's a, erm… well, sort of a mirror. And sort of _not_ a mirror. Bit hard to explain if you've not got your degree in biotemporal astronomics. Layman's terms, it'll stop the creatures out there noticing me. I've taken the scans from the computer – ' He tapped the console with his finger – 'and it seems to be the right idea, so long as they really are composed of neophotonic wavelength multiform operating on transverse binomial frequencies, and you have absolutely no idea what I'm talking about, do you?' Strax and Tork exchanged a glance, then both shook their heads. 'Thought not. Basically, this will make me invisible.' The Sontarans gave an 'aahhh!' of recognition.

'Could you apply it to the ship?' asked Tork.

'Could I? Yes. Will I? No. Sorry, bit too much of anomaly for your timezone. And besides, I don't like taking sides.'

Strax folded his arms. 'So what are you planning?'

'Quick dash back to the TARDIS, look up a few things. Quick cup of tea, maybe a bath or two, then see if we can't work out the problem.'

'Problem?' asked Tork.

'Yes. I'm sure Strax will fill you in on it.' The Doctor cracked his knuckles, then wrapped the metallic skein around his forehead. 'You know, one of these days, I'm really going to have to get around to a more portable version of this.'

The airlock slid open silently. The Doctor stepped outwards, breathing out a thin mist of fog. The wind had stilled to nothing – all around him was motionless. He might as well have been on the surface of the Moon for all the life there.

Hundreds, perhaps thousands, of the Light were attacking the hull of the ship. Most reverberated from the shield, but some sent plumes of steam up as they scorched into the metal. They all missed the Doctor, dodging past faster than he could perceive them.

The Doctor licked his finger, held it up, and worked out the path to the TARDIS. 'Right then,' he said, setting off. As his feet crunched and trudged through the rock and ash, he pursed his lips, and started to the tune in his head. _It's a Long Way, to Tipperary_ …

'Would you mind if I were to ask you some questions?' Strax lowered the food rations down onto the makeshift table.

Tork looked up from the scans. 'That would depend on the questions.'

'Why were you dispatched to this quadrant? Surely the war with the Rutans would have taken priority.'

'Rutans?' Tork thought for a second. 'Yes, there's a species with that designation in the memory banks. Cephalopodic shapeshifters, main defense is a system of bio-electric shocks. What about them?'

'What about them?!' Strax sat down. 'They're the Sontaran's greatest enemy! Our two races have been locked in combat for dozens of millennia!'

Tork gave a snort of derision. 'You must be mistaken. I think we would have noticed otherwise.'

'What would you consider to be the greatest military campaign in Sontaran history?'

'Impossible. There has only been _one_ military campaign in Sontaran history.'

'But by this time, there must have been some!' Strax tried to remember some examples. 'The Siege of Jenti? The Fall of Cassiopeia? The Battle for Arrakis?'

'These were not Sontaran campaigns.'

'But _why_ are you fighting this Light? What possibly tactical advantage could be served?'

'I serve my orders because they are my orders. A concept perhaps lost on a _butler_.' Tork's eyes flickered up and down Strax's form. 'You have forgotten what it means to be a soldier. You concern yourself with matters frivolous, not of death, and honour, and duty. You should leave before you do yourself any more harm.'

The Doctor burst through the TARDIS doors, slamming them shut behind him. 'Bit of a rush,' he called out the otherwise empty room, 'so can't do the manual search. Anything on a Field Marshall Tork, of the Forty-Seventh Sontaran Battle Legion. Cross-reference with Ouroboros Cluster.' He undid the clasp of the headpiece, and dangled it over the console.

The console chimed three times. 'Right,' murmured the Doctor, flicking a switch next to the monitor. An empty grey box filled the screen. 'Oh. Nothing? Have you tried spelling it differently? Turning off safe-search? Alright, worth a shot.' The Doctor idly played with some of the controls, then stopped. 'And definitely nothing? Not even that field databank we got on Terserus?'

He tutted, and took a swig of tea from the mug he left there some five years ago. 'So. Sontaran battle fleet that came from nowhere, no record of them ever existing, and they've never heard any part of Sontaran history. Any guesses?' The console hummed. 'No, didn't think you would.'

'And where is the glory in a senseless death?' As Tork worked at the console, Strax followed after, hounding him.

'That you would give anything to protect your people and army. That should be the one belief of a Sontaran – to die standing than live kneeling. Have you no honour?'

Strax was silent. 'I have honour.'

'When do you face death? When would you have the chance to fight for your brethren?' Tork moved closer to Strax. 'Fight with me, Strax. You know the Doctor, you can tell me his weaknesses.' His mouth curled into a grin. 'Become a Sontaran once more!'

 **A/N: Okay, if you've made it this far, please please please please please leave a review, whether you loved it, hated it, whatever. Part four to be uploaded tomorrow.**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four:

The Doctor perched a pair of tweezers between his teeth, and twisted apart two wires. 'Alright,' he murmured through the metal, 'that should do it.' He pulled the tweezer out and snipped one of the wires. 'Simple enough matter, really. Alter the broadwidth of the dematerialisation circuits –' A lever slammed down – 'and we can shoot right through the ship's shields. Only a short hop, so let's not get too clever.'

The rotor churned up and down, up and down, the array of lights flashing in cascade around the room.

Strax and Tork turned their heads as a gushing wind came from all directions. A moment later, the familiar blue box materialised before them. 'I'm back!' called the voice from inside, as its owner fumbled with the lock. 'Don't worry, managed to have a look at the TARDIS data… banks…' His voice trailed off as he stepped out of the TARDIS.

The two Sontarans, identical aside from their apparel, aimed rifles at him. They stood with stance absolutely perfect.

'Ah. Right.'

'You will come with us!' barked Tork, aiming his rifle over to the door.

The Doctor checked it, and looked back at his opponents. 'Will I?'

'Or you will be punished!' Strax fired a shot over the Doctor's shoulder, hitting the wall behind him. 'Sorry,' he added sheepishly. 'Didn't meant to do that.'

'Commander Strax will escort you to the prison.' Strax marched over to the Doctor. He used one hand to aim the weapon at him, and the other to grab the Doctor by the arm.

'It's like being kidnapped by a Womble,' muttered the Doctor, as he was frog-marched down the corridor.

The second the door hissed shut, the Doctor turned to Strax. 'So, _Commander_ , is it? Nice little field promotion for you.' Strax was silent. 'Of course, this is exactly why I didn't want you back on Sontar. A few hours of Sontaran jingoism, that mentality kicks right back in.' Still silence. 'I always thought it would.'

They reached the heavy bulkhead concealing the prison. With a swift push, Strax forced the Doctor into the cell, and sealed him in.

'So what's this all about, eh?' The Doctor went as close to the window in the bulkhead as he could. Strax didn't answer. Instead, the Doctor simply slapped a hand to his forehead. 'Oh! Oh, stupid Doctor! Stupid, stupid, _stupid_!'

There had been a good few minutes of just the two of them walking down the corridor. All it would have taken was a quick glance, and a sudden thought. And somehow, it had taken him this long to realise the truth – _Strax hadn't been limping_.

'Hypnosis!' declared the Doctor. 'Oh, Sontarans, you're brilliant! And a bit boring, but brilliant! You get someone under your thrall with hypnosis, and no matter how hungry or tired they are, or how much they hurt, they won't stop. So someone with a hurt leg wouldn't think to limp on it if they'd been hypnotised.'

Pleased with himself, the Doctor crossed his arms. 'Actually, I don't see how that helps me in the slightest.' His arms fell from his side. 'Bulkhead a simple hydraulic system, so even the sonic screwdriver wouldn't work.' He clucked his tongue. 'If you're allowed to speak, what were your _exact_ orders, Strax?'

'To watch you.'

'And alert Tork if I try to do anything silly like break out of the cell or attack you, right?' The Doctor's eyes flickered with thought. 'Watch me, right? So even if I were to, say, get this pocket watch out, and dangle it in front of you, like this, you'd have to keep on watching. That right? You were explicitly ordered to keep watching me as the watch moves back and forth, back and forth, just like that…

'Of course, even lulling you into a simple trance could take a few minutes –'

'Doctor!' Strax awoke with a start, beaming.

'Ah. Well, then again, Sontaran minds are nothing if not simple. Strax! Good to have you back.' The Doctor went to pat him on the back, but struck the bulkhead instead by accident. 'So, could you, er, let me out, by any chance? Getting a bit stuffy in here.'

Strax tapped a button by the door, and it slid open.

'Let me guess, Tork tried to recruit you into his ranks, you didn't go quietly into the night, so he took it by force. I've got to say, deliberately misfiring the gun, that was a nice touch.'

'Doctor, that, erm…' Strax cleared his throat. '…wasn't deliberate.'

'Oh. Well, all worked out for the best in the end, didn't it?'

'It is imperative that we stop Tork, Doctor.'

'I know, but that's easy said than done. Plus, he's a Sontaran, and surrounded by clone generators.'

'Correction – _broken_ clone generators.'

'Of course, that'll be it. It'd been nagging me this whole time – if a Sontaran was left fighting an enemy alone, why not summon up an army? Even just half-clones would do it.'

'And another thing. Field Marshall Tork, he seems particularly… stringent.'

'Probably just his clone batch. You've heard the saying, right? That if you give infinite monkeys infinite typewriters and infinite time, they'll pump out the complete works of Shakespeare.'

Strax tilted his head. 'Who's… _Shakespeare_?'

'Long story short, he's not an infinite amount of monkeys. Anyway, I think that same principle applies to Sontarans. The cloning process might be… what, 99.99 per cent identical, something like that? So in that 0.01 per cent, think how much cloning is done by the Sontarans – billions upon billions upon billions, and suddenly, that 0.01 per cent doesn't seem so small. Give me five minutes and a pen, and I'll get started on a dissertation!'

'This still doesn't help us think of a way to overpower Tork!'

'No, you're right, it doesn't. At least we've got the element of surprise.'

' _I wouldn't be so certain of that, Doctor_!'

The voice boomed from the speakers dotted around the corridors. The Doctor and Strax looked around them. ' _It is unwise to not consider the surroundings when in enemy territory_!'

The Doctor pointed at one of the speakers, mouthing, 'Microphones?' Strax nodded solemnly. ' _And cameras, Doctor_!'

Before Tork could react, the Doctor produced the sonic screwdriver, and waved it around. With a quiet whir, each of the microphones and cameras switched off. 'Right,' he said, putting the screwdriver back into his pocket, 'that should buy us a few minutes. I've got an idea, but I'm going to need you to distract Tork. Can you do that?'

With a frustrated cry, Tork hit the console with his fist. 'Damned vandal!' As fast as his ungainly hands would allow, he rattled at the keyboard, sending streams of commands across the screen.

'If you were ever worthy of the rank of Sontaran,' he said aloud, 'then you must know that we are particularly adept at knowing when people are approaching us from the rear.' He turned around. Strax was stood at the doorway, halfway between one footstep and the next. 'Ah.'

Tork stood up, facing his lesser. 'It is our only weakness; being sensitive to it would be an evolutionary advantage.' He aimed his rifle at Strax.

'It's not too complicated to deduce the Doctor's stratagem,' Tork continued. 'Being a Sontaran, you were sent to confront me, perhaps overpower, whilst the Doctor waits like the pacifist he is. Well? Would that be accurate?'

Strax stood as tall as he could, and curled his fist slowly. 'It wouldn't be too far off the mark, no.' With a snarl, he threw his hand forward, opening it as he did.

A tremendous bang went off just before Tork. He flinched instinctively, covering his face with his hands. He looked out a moment later. There was nothing.

'That,' said Strax, dusting his hands, 'was an Earth device the Doctor informs me is known as a "firecracker."'

'A diversion. Nothing more.' Tork produced his swagger stick, and gripped it in his good hand. 'Well? Are you going to fight, or would you like to run away again?'

Strax stepped up to Tork. 'I will fight!'

Like a mouse in a barn, the Doctor rummaged through the machinery, ducking and weaving between wires, engines, drives. 'No, no, no…' he muttered, looking around him. 'Where is it, where is it… ah!' He laughed for a second as he pulled out a chunk of metal. It was roughly the size of a tennis ball, with plugs and diodes dotted around the surface. 'Right…' The Doctor slipped the device into his pocket, and continued on his search.

The two Sontarans faced each other, arms held in front, ready for combat. 'You cannot possibly defeat me!' declared Tork. 'I was trained _personally_ by Commander Lisk himself!'

'And _I_ ,' announced Strax, 'have trained in every public house from Portsmouth to Edinburgh! Hah!' He swung his fist towards Tork, who did the same. They both dodged the other's blow in unison, like a dance.

'You move well. For a Time Lord's lapdog, that is.' Another punch; both ducked out of the way in perfect harmony.'

Strax punched. 'I have fought at the Battle of Zarathustra!' Kicked. 'I commanded at the Occupation of Demons Run!' Leapt. 'I survived last orders at the White Rabbit!' He grabbed Tork by the shoulders. 'I… am a _Sontaran_!' He headbutted Tork with all his might. Tork blinked rapidly, and fell to the ground.

Pleased with himself, Strax let the Field Marshal drop to the ground. He tapped the communications device: 'Doctor! I have…' His head starting to throb as well, Strax followed Tork onto the ground with a thump.

There was a sound. Thin, staccato beats… what was it? Strax slowly peeled open his eyes. The Doctor was stood over him, clicking his fingers. 'Come on, Strax,' he said, waving a hand. 'Rise and shine. That's it… come on…'

With a groan, Strax sat up. 'Where am I?'

'Same place I left you. Control room. Try not to move too soon, you might make yourself sick.' Already, the Doctor was at work on the consoles. 'Well? How did Sontarbowl go?'

'You mean the fight? I… I think I won. It was a close deal.'

'I'm not surprised.' He turned to Strax. 'You're Sontarans! Clones! Get the same person to fight themselves, you're only ever going to end up with a stalemate, aren't you?'

'Then why did you…?'

'I didn't want him _dead_. If I did, I could've just sucked all the air out of his part of the ship. No, I wanted to talk.'

'Then talk, Doctor.' Strax looked up. Tork was stood flush against the wall, pressed against the metal surface. The light seemed to glimmer and alter around him; a forcefield!

'In a minute!' answered the Doctor childishly. Back to Strax: 'You were just there to keep him busy. I knew you couldn't beat him and he couldn't beat you, and neither of you would stop fighting. Just didn't plan on you taking such a… prosaic approach. Now, it's your turn,' he said at last to Tork.

'And what would this be, Doctor?'

'Pretty simple. Death by combat. As deaths go, it seems to be a pretty favoured one among Sontarans, right?'

'As you yourself said, Doctor, you didn't want me dead.'

'No, that's true, I don't. So I'm giving you the choice. Whilst you two were having it out, I was rigging the engines to cut all power to the shields on my mark. In other words, there'll be nothing to stop the Light getting in here and turning you into baked potato.'

'And my alternative?'

'You come with us. We'll take you somewhere you can join other Sontarans and fight there. Abandon this war, or end it now. Your choice.'

Tork looked around. 'And if I choose to continue it?'

'You'll just wreak more havoc on this landscape. Right now, there's a chance, just the tiniest chance, that life could still develop on this planet. Like poppies blooming in No-Man's-Land. But if you keep fighting, that little scrap of hope is going to be wiped out.

'So? What do you say?'

Tork looked at the Doctor. 'I will come with you.'

'You sure? Last chance.'

'I am sure.' He went to move – the forcefield held him back. With a tap of a button, the Doctor switched it off.

Tork started to walk towards the door. Suddenly, he threw himself at the console. An alarm started to sound, the doors hissing as they slammed shut.

'Tork…?' asked the Doctor, looking at the screen. 'What did you do?'

'The shields have been deactivated!' said Tork triumphantly. 'I have no qualms about dying in battle, Doctor, and I will be more than glad to take you with me!'

 **A/N: Same again - please, please review the story, for good or for bad. Last part will be uploaded tomorrow.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five:

Like the water bursting through a broken dam, the beams of Light all broke into the ship at once. They bore holes into the ship, reducing whole parts to a twisted honeycomb of metal.

In the control room, all three occupants rocked with the ship. 'Tork,' said the Doctor, 'if you're going, that's your choice, but we're not coming with you. Strax, get the door.' Presently, Strax was on his feet, trying to pry open the door.

'A Sontaran's first duty is to protect the empire, by any means. If what you have told me has any truth to it, then you are indeed a great threat, Doctor.' Tork stepped closer. '"The Oncoming Storm?" "Time's Champion?"'

'Ah. That. If that's the case, then let the best man win. Strax! Door!'

'It's… difficult work… sir…' Strax grunted with the effort. The door was wedged open a crack.

Tork levelled the weapon at the Doctor. 'A quick death would be too easy for you, Doctor. But if I must incapacitate you, then I will.' He breathed out slowly, enjoying the action, and then, suddenly and terribly, fired the weapon.

The blast hit the Doctor in the abdomen; he cried out, falling down. 'At this setting,' Tork explained, fiddling with a dial on the weapon, 'it will not kill you. The damage, however, will be permanent. Fortunately, you will not suffer it long.

'You, however,' Tork continued, turning the weapon on Strax, 'will have to suffer death. It is the only way to redeem any honour you might have left. You have a choice; face the Light alone, and die a painful death, or face the laser, and your Doctor will go with you.'

Strax looked away from the door for a moment. 'Laser.'

'And take your friend with you? To die, because of your cowardice?'

'No, not die.' The Doctor leapt into the air, landing on his feet. 'Because he knows that I wouldn't be so stupid to leave an armed weapon with a Sontaran.'

Tork looked at the weapon in horror. 'You mean…?'

'Yep. Blanks. Well, Sontaran pulse rifle version of blanks, but you get what I mean. I was tempted to make it so that it would backfire literally – you know, a whole "hoist by your own petard" thing – but didn't really have time.'

'You will die for this, Doctor!'

'That's the third death threat in thirty seconds. Got to be a new record, right, Strax?'

'I believe five in a minute was your previous record, sir.'

'Ah, the Metraxi, of course!'

'Cease this prattling, Doctor!'

'Sorry, bad habit of mine. Then again, it does come in useful every now and then. Take now – whilst you're so distracted by my mouth, you're not at all focusing on where I'm walking.' Tork glanced at the Doctor's position: by the console. 'Or which buttons I'm pressing, or – Strax, when I say run, run – or even that jabberwocky behind you.' Tork turned his head: 'Run!'

As he set off, the Doctor whacked the button nearest him. The door sprung open; the Doctor and Strax shot through it, and it closed again.

'Relatively simple algorithm,' the Doctor gasped through puffs of breath. 'Door opens, we run through, door shuts. Help put some distance between us and Tork.' They stopped at a junction, both catching their breath.

'I've got a plan. Bit of a bad plan, but some good bits. Need your help.'

'Happy to, Doctor.'

'Good. Now, what I need you to – '

An explosion reverberated down the corridor. 'Oh, that _can't_ be good…'

The explosion was joined by a second, and then a third, each getting closer and closer.

'The Light?'

The Doctor shook his head. 'They've never made explosions before. It has to be Tork.'

One more explosion, just through the next bulkhead.

'What's he doing? He'll blow his own ship apart!'

'I don't think that really matters much now, Strax… Got your breath back? And again!' The two sprinted down the corridor, feet pounding beneath them.

The bulkhead blasted apart, revealing Tork behind it, a different rifle in hand. As the duo slipped through each door, it closed behind them, only to be blasted apart a moment later by Tork. Shrapnel scattered in the air like confetti.

'Come on, Strax!' The Doctor was keeping ahead by a few feet, Strax's gait still holding him back. 'Just a little further!'

A blast of Light tore through the ship, cutting across the corridor. Strax missed it by the skin of his teeth, the back of his shoe burnt. He and the Doctor turned back; Tork was stranded on the other side of the newly-formed chasm.

'Sorry!' called the Doctor, cupping his hands, 'you'll to take the long way round!'

'Get the door,' the Doctor ordered as he and Strax burst into the engine room. He buzzed the sonic screwdriver around the frame for a second. 'I've polarised the hull, should buy some time. If Tork does get through, you need to stop him. Can you do that?'

Strax examined the weapon. 'I can,' he replied simply.

'Good.' The Doctor patted Strax on the shoulder, and went to work. 'Got most of the stuff I needed, but could always be one or two things left over, you know how these DIY kits are.' He buried himself in a pile of bits and pieces, hooking them together, tearing them apart.

The door thudded. The Doctor looked up for a fleeting moment, then back down to his work. 'That's Tork,' said Strax.

'Yes. He'll know the ship inside and out, wouldn't have taken him long to get here. Won't be a second…'

The metal of the door started to bend and creak under the strain. 'Come on… come on!' The last two pieces of the puzzle slotted together. With one last blow, the doors bent apart – only a sliver was opened between them, but Tork's twisted face was visible. Upon seeing his foe, he was struck by a new energy, and raised his weapon once more.

The Doctor scrambled to the ladder, climbing up it. As he reached the top, he adjusted the setting on the Neutrol tank. 'Now, Strax!'

With a crunch, the doors opened, revealing Tork. He stormed into the room, as a wave of Neutrol flowed towards him, advancing with the steadfast urge of the greatest army. 'No!' he cried, stepping back. By then, the Neutrol had run across the engine room, an eight-foot wide river separating him from his enemies.

He aimed the weapon – the Doctor leapt down from the platform, hands wide. 'No, no! Don't do that!'

'And why ever not?!'

'Neutrol, laser blast – _whoomph_!' The Doctor mimed an explosion with his hands.

Tork's face contorted into a grin, as he set the weapon to kill. 'You will die, Doctor. Of this, I am certain.' He pulled the trigger.

And promptly dropped down as a bright blast of scarlet hit him square in the chest.

Wafts of smoke trailed out of the nozzle on Strax's weapon. He looked at it in astonishment, and lowered it again.

'What part of "Not leaving a Sontaran with an armed weapon" did he not understand?' The Doctor walked into the TARDIS, leaving the door ajar. A beat later, Strax followed.

'Is… is that it, Doctor?'

'No. I worked it out, you see. Like a murder mystery – once you know the answer, it's obvious.' He waited for Strax to guess. 'Ouroboros Cluster? A snake eating its own tail, life into death into life and all that. Or, to put a slightly different take on it: The last Sontaran of the Forty-Seventh Legion, is also the _first_ one.'

'You mean…?'

'Yes.' The Doctor pulled down a lever. 'I've hooked the ship into the TARDIS. We're taking it along for a ride,' he explained, pointing Strax to the scanner.

The engine room was motionless; however, the holes pocked in the hull by the Light filled in, vanishing without a trace.

'What do you think? Ten thousand years should just about do it…' The Doctor raised the lever again. 'There we go. Just the clever bit to go, then we're off home.'

Tork was in the same position as before. 'The cloning tanks will be working again now,' said the Doctor, walking over to him. 'And you only need one to make two, then two into four, and before you know it, you've got a legion on your hands.' He pressed his fingertips to Tork's temple. As Strax watched in bewilderment, the Doctor elaborated: 'Psychic message. And clearing up any message we were ever here, of course.' He wiped his hands on his lapels. 'Now, there's some fragments left behind for the actual Sontarans to find whenever they do, so that should be just about everything.' He patted Strax on the arm. 'Come on. Let's get you home.'

 **A/N: Epilogue to be uploaded ASAP.**


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue:

The TARDIS lamp glowed softly as the blue box appeared. When it was solid, the Doctor and Strax stepped out, joining the real world once more.

'Should be just a few minutes after we left,' said the Doctor, checked his pocket watch. 'An hour, tops. See? That's the same snow.' He gestured after the haze of white around them.

Waddling over to a bench nearby, Strax found a newspaper – December 28th, 1894. 'The same date.'

'See? I can fly the TARDIS right once in a while. You know what they say – even a broken clock's right twice a day.'

Strax stood beneath the lantern, leaning against it. With a sigh, the Doctor joined him. 'Try not to think too hard about Tork. It's the first rule of time travel; never meet your heroes. Second one's "never meet your family," and third one's "leave the Bermuda Triangle alone."' He paused for a second. 'You know, I've never actually found out why that third is. Maybe that can be next year's present.'

'Perhaps. Thank you, Doctor.'

'Don't mention. We're mates, Strax. I always help my mates.' He thought for a second. 'You know, Sontarans. You're a funny lot. Nothing actually in your genetic makeup to make you so warmongering, you just are. Just think – fifty thousand years in that war, around two million clones produced per second on average. That's… 7.884 quintillion, give or take a few.'

Strax squinted. 'Is that a lot?'

Laughing, the Doctor replied, 'Just a bit, yeah. And in all those, you're the only one who could break the training. The first and last. The Omega Sontaran.'

Both decided to say nothing. Their silence was broken by the Doctor's: 'Right!' He clapped his hands together. 'I'll be off, then. Don't want to keep your bosses waiting! Actually, 1894… there'll be a couple of old friends I wouldn't mind checking in on. Do you know where the Regency Theatre is – '

'Doctor.'

'What?'

'You're _absolutely certain_ this is London, 1894?'

'Course I am. Why?'

'London, England, Earth?'

'Yes? Strax, what is it?'

Strax simply pointed upwards. The Doctor followed it upwards; hovering above the city was a flying saucer, the size of a football stadium.

'Oh.'

The End.

 **A/N: I hope you enjoyed the story. Whether you did or didn't, leave a review.**


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